My mouth opened. Nothing came out.
“Why did you get in his car, Aurora?” His voice cracked on my name. “Why did you go with that bastard?”
“Joshua—”
“Why?”
He wasn’t yelling. But he might as well have been; his anger was quiet, shaking in his chest. He took a step closer and stopped himself halfway, running a hand through his hair as if he were trying to keep it together.
“How do you even—”
“I came home early,” he said, jaw clenching. “You weren’t here.” His hand dropped to his side. “I asked reception if you had come back, and they said no.”
I swallowed. “I—”
“I asked to check the cameras,” he said, looking away for a second as if he hated saying it. “And I saw you. You and him. Getting into his car. With his driver.” His voice dropped again, almost breaking. “You just… left. With him.”
“Joshua,” I whispered.
He shook his head, laughing once under his breath, but it wasn’t amusement. “And now you’re back, as if nothing happened. So tell me, what did he say? What did you talk about? Why did you go?”
Every question felt heavier than the last.
I opened my mouth, but my throat felt as if it were closing.
He stared at me, waiting. Waiting for something I didn’t know how to give.
“I—” I tried. “He just wanted to talk.”
“About what?”
“About you.”
His eyes hardened. “Of course he did.”
“No, Joshua, listen—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, but it came out strangled.
I took a shaky breath. “I didn’t know he’d be there. He was waiting outside. He looked…I don’t know, tired, sad. I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think,” he repeated, voice soft and dangerous.
I flinched. “I didn’t think it would hurt you.”
He looked up then, and for a second, all the anger slipped, replaced by something worse. Something like betrayal.
“You talked to him,” he said quietly, almost whispering now. “You sat with him, didn’t you?”
I nodded slowly. “He invited me to dinner.”
He laughed again, small and bitter. “Of course he did.”
“Joshua, he’s not—”
“Don’t,” he said fast, stepping back. “Don’t tell me he’s not what I know him to be.”
I bit my lip hard. “He’s… different now.”
